With an under the weather Husband firmly embedded on the sofa and the weather promising to be bright, I decided to drag Tim out of London to Windsor at the weekend. I met him at the station, and gave him a quick tour of the town centre, grabbing a coffee from my Mum and my favourite Costa.
I had a vague notion of wanting to cross over into Eton and walk down the Thames, and as Tim didn’t mind, that’s what we did. We cut across the Brocas meadow to get to the Thames path and walked for a couple of miles to Boveney Lock talking all kinds of things. There is nothing better than our rambly conversations.
Once we got to the lock, we had a look at the map and whilst it was tempting to continue all the way to Greenwich, we decided to turn back. I had told Tim that the view from the Brocas was supposed to be amazing and on the way out, I couldn’t really see what the fuss was about. The way back was quite different.
My car park ticket was running out, so we jumped in the car and drove over to the fancy-pants Windsor farm shop where Tim proceeded to bleed over a flagon of the Queen’s cider. Then, a quick visit to Windsor Great Park just in case there were some deer about.
There were. Hundreds.
With the sun setting, we went back into Eton and had another coffee out by the Thames whilst continuing our nonsense chatting. We ruminated on the terrible parenting that we were witnessing outside a neighbouring restaurant and before we knew it, it was time to walk him back to the station.